A mutual misunderstanding
by blc
Summary: That policy about how partners can't date? And their apparent cluelessness about how the other one feels? Yeah. Angela clears up B/B's mutual misunderstanding. Humor/Romance. Bones is the property of Fox and its producers. SPOILER S4 E01.
1. Chapter 1

I stood as she walked out of her office, dressed up for another date with another loser on another Friday night when I'd be go

I stood as she walked out of her office, dressed up for another date with another loser on another Friday night when I'd be going home to watch hockey and grit my teeth about the fact that she might be '_relieving biological urges_' with someone else, and pasted a smile on my face, wishing her a good evening. She smiled back, looking what? why did she look sad? and then headed out the door, her hips swaying under the silk of her close-cut dress, as she walked off on heels almost as high as the ones she'd worn in Vegas, though thank God she wasn't wearing now what she'd worn then, because if I saw her dressed up like that for another guy besides me... Uggh. I flopped back into her couch and put my head in my hands. I might as well wallow in misery in her office as my house, and her office had the added benefit? torture? of smelling like her. I'm an idiot. Can't she see I'm in love with her? Doesn't she know she drives me insane? How can she not possibly feel the jolt of electricity that passes between us each time we come into contact, a thousand times worse since Christmas and that damned mistletoe? How can she do this to me, go out on dates with other guys and smile at me as she walks away? I mean, she's a genius, she should know this stuff. She can't possibly be so oblivious, can she?

"Aaaagghhhhh!!" Well, that was sort of satisfying-- groans of sexual frustration and unrequited love bounce much better off an enormous, metal-lined cave of a lab than my coffee table. At least it's eight on a Friday night and I'm the only loser here.

"She thinks you don't want her, you know." Shit. Wasn't as alone as I thought. What? Angela followed her bombshell into the room and sat down beside me.

"What?! How could she possibly think that!!" Nice, Seeley, there, just tell her best friend, the world's biggest gossip, what you've so far managed to keep to yourself, except clearly not if she's saying something like that.

She looked amused. Of course, Angela always looks amused. I suppose having sex three times a day with the bug man in every nook and cranny in the lab would make anyone pretty relaxed and amused. Agh. This was not helping. Sex equals thoughts of sex with Bones, which equals thoughts of what's under Bones' dress that she's wearing tonight, which equals thoughts about the fact that she seemed to be wearing stockings, and oh, God, stop it, don't give yourself a boner right in front of Angela, please? Maintain some shred of dignity, there, Seeley, boy.

"I was nagging at her about her date tonight, one she wasn't particularly interested in going on, by the way, and teasing her about you, because, well, I enjoy seeing her blush," what? blush? she blushes when Angela teases her about me? "and I kept at her, telling her what a dork this guy was, and she got mad and yelled at me."

"She always gets mad when you criticize her taste in men. So what?" I mean, she always gets mad when I criticize her taste in men, and I do that, a lot, more than I should, really, but I just can't seem to get the filter between my brain and my mouth to work on that point.

"Well, see, this was interesting, though, because I got her really wound up, and she told me about some lady investigator you two were working with over in England, and how you and this investigator had some clear chemistry, and yet she didn't think you'd slept with her, but that you'd basically invited her to come visit, so you probably would, and that this woman was stunningly gorgeous, and then, Booth, then, she ... sighed."

"She what?" I mean, yeah, Pritch is hot, and she's a great cop, and she got me a James Bond gun, which was cool, and now all the guys at work are jealous, but still, as sweet and as nice as she is, she's no Bones. And I'm not about to hop in the sack with someone whose partner just got murdered, anyway.

Angela smiled, and repeated herself. "She _sighed_, Booth, and she looked... sad. So, I asked her why the hell you two haven't hooked up yet, and you know what she told me?"

I shook my head. "No clue. Really. I mean, I normally know what she's thinking, but..."

She looked at me, gauging to see if I was telling the truth, which I was. I ... just ... I mean, normally, I have a great read on Bones, but sometimes? There are things it's just impossible to tell what she's thinking about, or maybe I just get a complete mental block when it comes to the non-work two of us stuff. She apparently decided I was, because she poked me, hard, in the chest, looking me right in the eye.

"She told me, and I quote, '_Booth isn't interested in me that way, Angela. He's merely a chivalrous friend. He made it clear that's all we would ever be, after Cam was poisoned. He told me work colleagues can never be involved when we do what we do, although that was just a formality, a way of politely acknowledging that he knew how I felt, but that it wasn't going to happen, since I'm clearly not his type_.'" Oh, God, that stupid line. What does she mean she's not my type? And what does she mean, I knew how she felt? I don't have a type any more, there's just Bones, I mean, I haven't been on a date in, well, pretty much since I drew that stupid line. Angela was still watching me, as I shook my head, then poked me again. "I also asked her why she thought you hadn't been on a date since forever, and she said she was sure that you had, because, and again I quote, '_Booth's a private person, and he was upset when I teased him about Cam and Rebecca, so he's just protecting his privacy_. _I don't have a right to know what goes on in his life outside work_.'"

"Aaaaggghhh! I haven't had sex in a year and a half!" Oh, shit. Way to make sure Angela blackmails you forever, there. But she didn't laugh, and she just shook her head. "Neither has she," she replied.

"What? But... she... she goes on dates all the time!! And... I mean, Wexler was hounding her, and I mean, what man wouldn't, but ... she didn't, but I think she was being polite because she knew I didn't want her to, and, I mean, her and her biological urges!"

She shook her head again. "That's what I said. She said Wexler was a '_charming cad, but not sufficiently symmetrical and well-structured_,' and then, Booth, then, she said," and again, she poked me, ow, enough with the poking, Angela, I've got it, I'm listening, "'_I find myself concluding they're all beta males, which renders any latent biological urges null._'" Renders any latent biological urges null... oh, she doesn't want beta males, but that means... I mean, she calls me an alpha-male all the time ... and wait, she's called me symmetrical and well-structured, but ... wait, she wants me?

"What!! Why didn't she _say_ something? I mean, how can she be so _blind_? And what does she _mean_ she's not my type? How can she _possibly_ think I was talking about anything except trying to protect her? Doesn't she _know_ it would kill me if she got hurt? And how can she _possibly_ think I don't want her? Aaaaagggghhh!" Yeah, way to keep your cool, there, Seeley. "Aaaaghhhh!!"

Angela snorted, before saying "You said that already. So the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"I can't, the Bureau will break us up if we get involved."

Angela slapped me on the chest. "Ow! Jesus, Angela, knock it off! I could arrest you for assaulting a federal officer!" She slapped me again.

"You deserve it, you're an idiot. Did you ever actually look up the rule you've been using as a feeble excuse? Especially since you both can get shot as easily if you're not involved as if you are? Like it wouldn't already kill you if she got hurt?" She's right, it would, but ... still... I mean/

"No, I don't need to look it up! It's strict policy that Bureau employees who are involved romantically can't work on cases together. They can date, or be married, there are plenty of people who are, but they can't work cases together."

She was staring at me, like I was clearly missing something. "Bureau employees, Booth. She doesn't work for the Bureau. She works for the Jeffersonian. The rule doesn't apply to contractors, I checked."

"What?! You checked? What? Who? When?" Nice. Way to be coherent, there, tough guy investigator, there.

"I asked Sweets. Six months ago."

"You asked our twelve year old THERAPIST if Bones and I could get involved? SIX MONTHS AGO?" And you're just telling me now?? "AAAAGHHHH!"

She nodded, looking increasingly amused. "I did. And he said yes."

"WHAT??" Wow, sound really does echo well in here.

She laughed at me, then. "He said yes, there was no official policy barrier, and that so long as your working relationship with Brennan remains unimpaired, the Bureau wouldn't have any reason to object, especially because you two have the highest solve rate in the country. The _country_, Booth, by at least ten percent. He also said, and I quote, '_I can honestly say I have never worked with two such intelligent, talented, totally clueless people in my life. I mean, totally clueless, totally_.'"

Oh, my God. Don't hyperventilate. You drew a line based on a policy you didn't even go back to read, you moron, and you knew it applied only to Bureau employees, and you knew she's not a Bureau employee, as if the fact that she stays in luxo-hotels every time you travel while you stay in Bob's Local Roach Motel wasn't proof enough, and now you've wasted a year and a half of time you could have spent kissing her, and ogling her openly, and closing the blinds in her office and shutting the door when she's arguing with you and backing her up against the wall so you can shut up her squint logic the way you've been dreaming about for four years now, and..

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHH! Where was her date taking her?" Good. Coherent sentences are good. Okay, stand up, Seeley boy, time to take inventory before you go stop that date, have you got your... wallet, check, keys, check, cell phone, check, weapon, check, fully clothed, check, raging hard on, _definite_ check. Okay, Angela, stop laughing at me and tell me where the hell her date was taking her.

"Antoinetta's on K Street. Their reservations are for eight-thirty." Oh, bless you Angela. I could kiss you. In fact, I think I will. A purely platonic, thank God you're so goddamned nosy and meddlesome kiss. There, hah, that shut you up. Yep, even a platonic, no tongue, close-mouthed '_you just saved my life_' kiss from old Seeley Booth still sets 'em reeling.

"Thanks, Ange."

"You're welcome," she murmured, looking slightly dazed. Hah. Can't wait to see how Bones reacts when I give her the '_screw the line and let's go home and go right to bed because I have four years of fantasies to get working on, now_' kiss.

"Good luck!" she yelled, right before I burst through the lab doors on the way to the truck. Please, please, luck don't fail me now.


	2. Chapter 2

"You look gorgeous, Bren."

I looked up from the bathroom mirror, where I'd been putting on mascara. Angela'd come into the bathroom. She said she was staying late, to clean up some work she'd left undone after she broke up with Jack, I still couldn't believe it, but what do I know about relationships? Nothing. It was terrible, she was clearly upset, and so was he, but I was no one to give advice or ask questions about this type of thing, so I just tried to listen and be sympathetic for her. We were supposed to go to a club tomorrow night for a little 'glug-glug-wahoo,' as she called it.

"Thanks, Ange." I don't even know why I'm going on this date, I mean, Carl seems nice, and the conversation may well be interesting, he's a materials scientist with an interest in dental polymers, and dental records are always so important to our cases, but he's rather unassuming. I was actually surprised when he asked me out, but what else am I going to do on a Friday night, at least for a few hours? I can't stand the inanity of television, and I'm all caught up on my journals, and I haven't had time to go to the bookstore to find something new to read. I suppose I could cancel my date and go to the bookstore, Ian was telling me about Oliver Sacks' new book on neurological disorders before he was killed, but ... no, it would be rude to cancel on Carl, and he seemed like a nice man, even if he was slightly built and only my height, and his features were not perfectly symmetrical, and he had hazel eyes instead of deep chocolate brown... Stop it, Temperance. Stop it. Do not think about your friend and partner that way.

She was standing there, watching me, as I finished putting on my makeup, that look on her face she gets when she's going to start nagging me about Booth again. I hate that. I really do. I mean, she's supposed to be my best friend, doesn't she know how much it hurts my feelings when she teases me about someone I can't have? I suppose not. I mean, I'm terrible at expressing how I feel about anything, and I'm terrible at keeping things going even when I manage to get something approaching the right words out of my mouth, but still, she's known me for ten years, you'd think she'd know by now. Ah, well. Just proof that my middle name should be 'Lonelyhearts.'

"You seem less than excited for your date tonight."

"I'm tired, I still have a little jet lag, and I didn't get a lot of sleep those last few days, what with trying to find out what happened to Dr. Wexler. But I can't cancel on Carl, it would be rude. I should have done it earlier, before we left England, but it was too late by the time I thought of it."

She nodded. "He was cute, Bren, I'm sorry that happened to him. It must be hard to sleep with someone and then have them get killed, right out from under you."

What? She thought I slept with him? "No, Ange, I didn't sleep with Ian. He's a... he was a was a charming cad, but not sufficiently symmetrical and well-structured. But he was a fascinating person, it's horrible what happened, it's a terrible loss for academia and Scotland Yard, I feel terrible for Inspector Pritchard..." An involuntary sigh escaped me. Crap. Perhaps Angela hadn't noticed. Ah, yes. Inspector Cate Pritchard, the raven-haired, stunning, Scotland Yard inspector with the mellifluous accent, the sparkling black eyes, and an enviable ability to speak her mind and make her interests in others plain and known. She'd connected instantly with Booth, and no wonder, they were both excellent investigators, much of a mind when it came to solving the cases we'd worked on, and she and he spoke the same language, one I still sometimes struggled to keep up with, even as long as I'd been working with Booth.

"Inspector Pritchard?" Damn. She'd noticed. I was too tired for this. Maybe I could call Carl and tell him I had the flu, but then I'd have to reschedule to be polite, and I didn't really want to do that either.

"She's the officer who was Ian's counterpart in England. She and Ian had a relationship of sorts, but I gather they both saw other people, and..." Oh, be quiet, Temperance. That 'and' is going to get you in trouble.

"And? Come on, Bren, out with it."

"And... she seemed interested in Booth. Very interested. And... I think he was interested back, although he was clearly being chivalrous in not doing anything about it, since she'd just lost Ian. But... he basically told her she should come visit, and I'm sure she probably will, because who wouldn't, I mean, it's Booth, any woman would be insane not to take him up on an invitation..." There. Fine. You want me to admit how I feel about him, Angela? There. Now, please, just leave me alone so I can go out on my date that will end with a chaste kiss on the cheek before I go home to lie in the bathtub and fantasize about my perfectly formed, chivalrous, completely uninterested in me partner.

"Any woman, Bren?"

"Yes, Angela, any woman." I felt the inevitable blush heating my face as I thought about him in anything but a purely romantic way. Damned biological responses.

"So you admit it!" She had an ear-to-ear grin on her face. I supposed she'd earned it, but it didn't make me feel any better, saying it out loud.

"It doesn't matter. He's not interested in me. I'm not his type." Really not his type. I mean, I don't know anything about sports, I'm an idiot when it comes to pop culture, I think articles about tribes in rainforests are interesting, and they are, really. Why on earth would he be interested in me? I have no ability to connect with everyday people, and as exceptionally intelligent and talented and perfectly structured and oh, what a beautiful man, by any cultural standards, as he is, the fact remains that he is capable of living in the everyday world, and I'm just ... not. Temperance Brennan, emotionally stunted nerd. Just like high school, all over again, when I had that horrible crush on the quarterback, who was always polite to me, because he wanted help with math, and because he was not a mean-hearted person, like some of those other jocks.

"Bren, you're insane." She was looking at me like I really was, and I am. Insane for continuing to harbor non-partnerly thoughts about a partner who'd made it clear we were only friends, in the nicest, most polite way possible, by drawing that line he pretended he needed to be there, on his part. He always knew what I was thinking, he knew me better than he did, he clearly only drew that line because he knew I wanted to try something more with him, and that was just his way of being nice about it. He's so nice, he always tries to protect me, even when he knows I can take care of myself, but he can't help himself, he's so old-fashioned. I supposed I should still get mad about it, like I used to, but I really can't, not when all I really want is to... okay, stop it, Temperance. You are going on a date with someone else who isn't him tonight, in a feeble attempt to distract yourself for a few hours.

"I'm not. He told me."

"What!! What? You never told me that! What did he say?" I don't want to talk about this. Really. But if I tell her, maybe she'll let me alone about Booth, and then I can just sigh about him alone in my bathtub. Well, here goes.

"After Cam was poisoned, he told me... there's a line that people who work together, like we do, when it's so dangerous, that there's a line they can't cross. He was right. Cam never would have been poisoned, probably, if Epps hadn't thought Booth and I weren't involved, which led him to play his horrible game, and involve Parker, and I felt so horrible that I'd so clearly let my feelings show as to endanger both of them, when I knew Booth didn't reciprocate, so I took his warning to heart and did my best to cover my feelings for him."

"Bren! I can't believe you! The man watches your every move like a hawk! Of course he wants you!"

I shook my head. "No, Angela, you're wrong. Booth is a friend, a chivalrous one, and he's merely looking out for my best interests. He's not interested in me."

"Temperance Brennan. The man hasn't been on a date in a year and a half. How on earth can you say that?"

"Oh, Ange, you don't know what you're talking about. Booth has women knocking down his door all the time. He's just... he's old-fashioned, he doesn't like to talk about his life outside work, he's a professional, and you know the way women look at him. He just... doesn't talk about it because it's none of our business. Plus, I made him mad when I teased him about sleeping with Rebecca and Cam. It's none of my business. I'm just his partner." I never should have done that, but the blue-eyed monster of jealously broke that filter between my brain and my mouth, at least before he drew that line and made it clear.

She shook her head now, and let out an aggravated sigh. "So you're just going to go out on a date with a guy who's not Booth and then go home and sleep with him?"

"No. I won't sleep with him." Should I? Well, since it seemed to be the "Truth" in Truth or Dare night here in the bathroom, I might as well. "I haven't slept with anyone since Sully left." Since Sully left. I never should have slept with him in the first place, but I was feeling lonely, and he was charming, and kind, and almost as chivalrous and respectful as Booth, and a respectful lover, but... he just wasn't Booth, and despite the fact that it was clear I could never have Booth, I just couldn't let Sully delude himself that I might come to love him some day.

"But Bren! You're always going on about relieving biological urges, what happened to that?"

I sighed again. "They're all beta-males, Angela. It renders all latent biological urges null, once I confirm that."

"Have you even tried telling Booth how you feel?" God, Angela, why can't you leave me alone! I mean, I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life anyway, why do you have to keep at me like this.

"Angela! No! He's my best friend, next to you, and sometimes I think he's a better best friend than you, because at least he knows when to leave me alone! He doesn't want me, he's made it clear, and yet he values my work expertise, and if I say anything, it will ruin our friendship, ruin our partnership, and then the one thing I get out of bed for everyday, which is _work_, and solving our cases together, will be ruined! So, just, leave it alone! Leave me alone! I don't want to talk about it anymore!" I can't continue this conversation with her anymore. Time to leave. I brushed past her, at least she looked a little bit shocked, maybe I could get out the door without her saying anything. Good.

As I walked back to my office, drawing deep breaths, I wondered all over again. She was right, at least about going on dates with people who just didn't measure up to Booth. I should stop, it wasn't fair to these men for me to accept dates I had no intention of taking past the first or the second one. I hadn't published anything academic in a while, and I could take up another seminar at the University, the Dean of the Faculty had asked me if I'd consider teach a weekend intensive practical skills seminar-- I might as well. Unless we were working, I was just here doing limbo cases or home reading, or at the gym or the dojo. Well, that was settled.

I got back to my office and gathered my things, shut down my computer, and finished my makeup in the mirror. Angela hadn't followed me, which was good, perhaps I could make it out of here without another provoked emotional outburst. I'd turned and bent to pick up my purse when his voice came from the doorway.

"Hey, Bones, got the rest of that paperwork for you." Oh, God, Booth, you had to stop by now, to provide me a fresh reminder of how inadequate my date's going to be, right before I leave? I'm going to turn around and you're going to be leaning against my doorway, looking incredibly put together in your suits that I think you probably have tailored, because they fit you perfectly, lounging against the frame with perfect physical ease, because everything you do is with perfect physical ease, strength, and grace like a panther, and oh, God, Temperance, stop it, just turn around and steel yourself against that Charm Smile of his that makes your insides turn to gelatinous goo every time you see it, and try not to swoon at the way his eyes, his perfect, chocolate brown eyes, and you don't even like chocolate, twinkle. Turn. Turn. Damnit, body, do what I tell you.

"Hi, Booth," I managed, turning, and oh, God, I love that red tie with the beachballs on it, it's so silly and endearing, and he's got the red and yellow striped socks on, he hasn't worn those in a month, not since that case with the heroin dealer, and God, just finish your sentence, "thanks, I appreciate it." He must have come by just to make sure I've eaten supper, before he goes on some date with some supermodel who knows all about basketball and cares about politics, and then takes her home to do things to her that I'll only dream of in my bathtub, he's so nice, always trying to make sure I've eaten, and am getting enough sleep, he's such a good friend.

"You look nice," he replied, walking in to hand me the file, and oh, God, please, Booth, don't stand so close to me so that I can see that dimple in your cheek and smell your Old Spice cologne and your own leathery, chocolatey scent under it, and did I mention I don't even like chocolate, except your eyes and your smell and your hair? Aaaaaggghhhhh! He's always so polite, complimenting women and holding the door, he does it for everyone, it doesn't mean anything, as much as you might want it to. He's your friend. Your partner. That's it. Okay, Temperance, take the file, smile, thank him, act like something besides a teenager.

"Thank you. I ... uh ... have a dinner engagement." Not a date, because there aren't going to be any after this.

"Anyone I know?" Oh, God, don't make me talk about poor Carl, I really, really, should have cancelled.

"A materials scientist I met at a forensics colloquium before we went to England."

"Ah. Well, have fun." Fun. Sure. Thinking about how I'd rather be eating dinner with you, followed by an all night exploration of your perfectly formed ... aaagghhh! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Swallow, breathe, pick up your purse, smile at him. Put the file down. Good girl.

"Thank you." He stepped aside, sweeping me a bow with a smile. Oh, Lord. Booth, don't bend over so your jacket rides up and I can look at your unbelievably well-muscled rear end, please? "Have a good weekend, Booth."

"You too," he called, as I left the office. Don't look back, don't look back, if you do, you'll run back and throw your arms around him and beg him to reconsider that line, and it will be the end of everything. Keep going, you can do it.

Aaaaaaggggghhhhh! Great, now even my inner voice of frustration sounds like Booth. I'm such a fool.


	3. Chapter 3

I berated myself all the way over to the restaurant, and traffic was bad, I was just going to make the reservation, I do hate

I berated myself all the way over to the restaurant, and traffic was bad, I was just going to make the reservation, I do hate being late, even when it's for a date I don't want to be on, but I managed to find a space just down the street, so I checked my makeup one more time in the mirror. Fine, I look fine, all my inner turmoil seems to be well-masked, I can do this, be polite and kind and then after a few hours it will be over and I can begin my official Old Maid life.

There he was, waiting outside the restaurant, that's kind, he hadn't already gone in to sit, and oh, he is so not my type, no one is but Booth, just keep walking Temperance, you're almost there, see, yes, he's holding his hand out, just take it, and give him a kiss on the cheek hello...

"Temperance!" What? That sounds like Booth. I whipped my head around, and he was running up the street toward me. Oh, no, he never calls me by my first name unless there's something really wrong, did something happen to Angela? Or Parker? Or someone else? But why didn't he call me on my phone? And how did he find out where I was going? I only told Angela, he must have talked to her, oh, God, I hope we have a case.

"Carl," I said, dropping his hand and pulling away before I kissed him. "Excuse me, that's my work partner, I'll be just a moment." Booth finished running up then, perfect chest puffing just a little with his exertions, and looking serious about something, as he turned to Carl and said, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, really, but would you mind if I just spoke with Temperance for a moment? It's important."

His hand came to my back and oh, God, doesn't he know that sends a jolt up my spine every time he touches me, and led me over about ten feet away, far enough that Carl wouldn't hear us. "Booth, what is it? What's wrong?" Good. Talking is good. Not melting under his hand is good. Way to be an adult.

He looked down at me, standing close enough for me to feel the oh, my God, incredible heat rolling off him, eyes still serious, as he put his other hand on my upper arm, oh God, I can't bear it when he touches me, I want him so much. "Temperance, I need to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me, okay?" Oh, God. He doesn't want to work with me, he knows, he saw, Angela made me too upset to hide it, but why, why couldn't he have left it for Monday, he had to come after me now, so I can spend the whole weekend all alone in the lab, drowning my misery in Limbo?

"I'm listening." Great. You can't even manage to answer with a full voice. Just whisper it again, better yet, just evaporate into nothing right here, or wish that spontaneous combustion was real.

"I was wrong. I was wrong about the line. I've been a fool, I don't want the line, I never have." What? What? What?

"What? But... you said... you don't..." What?

He sighed. Sighed? Oh, my God. "I know. I was wrong, okay? I... I'm an idiot. I... just... I didn't want to spoil our partnership, I didn't think you were interested, but... I can't stand it anymore, I had to tell you, and..." Oh, my God. He does? He is? He thought I? And he told me to go with Sully even though he wanted me? Because he thought I didn't? Oh, my God.

"You do?" Well, at least it technically counts as a sentence, even if you're still whispering.

He nodded, his eyes darting momentarily toward Carl. Oh, Carl. Oh. Well, I can't possibly have dinner with him now.

"Oh. Well... um... hold on a moment." He let go, reluctantly. Reluctantly? Reluctantly! Oh, my God!

My knees managed to carry me over to Carl, who was standing there with a puzzled look on his face. "Carl, um, I'm sorry, something's come up, and I'm going to have to cancel tonight's dinner. I... uh, have to go work on something with my partner, and I've got to leave now." His face fell a little, but he nodded, and replied. "Well, duty calls, I hope it's not a nasty dig, you'll soil your lovely dress. Shall I call you later, and we can reschedule?" Oh, dear. I don't have time for this, I'll explain later, Angela will find a way to help me beg off nicely. "Fine, thank you for understanding." I laid my hand on his arm, squeezed, smiled at him, and turned back to Booth, who was waiting off to the side.

I should deck him for making me wait. How could he not know? But... I don't care. All I care about is he's standing there right now. I walked back over to him and put my hand on his arm and looked up at him. I had to ask, I had to be sure, this was like one of those silly romantic dreams I have about him. "Really?"

"Really." He nodded, and repeated himself. "Really." I just stared at him, lost for words. "Look, Temperance, do you think we could... go somewhere and discuss this? I feel really bad about your date, over there, and all, but... maybe we could go someplace private?"

"Yes. My place or yours?" Yes, yesyesyesyesyes, please. Please, yours is closer, please, please, please, if I have to drive the extra ten minutes back to mine, my hearts going to explode from the waiting.

"Mine's closer." Oh, thank heaven. Thank you, Booth's God and Jesus and saints and angels that I don't believe in, but still, thankyouthankyouthankyou.

"Okay, I'll meet you there, I'm just parked down the block."

He nodded, then said, "I'm parked just a few cars behind you."

I let go of his arm, and turned to head back to the car, his hand on my back, oh God, please, soon, let there be more than just his hand on my back tonight, please, I don't think I can stand it any longer. He let go when I reached my car door, and opened it for me after I unlocked it with the remote, offering me his hand as I went to get in. Oh, my God, please let there be more than his hand in mine, soon, please.

"I'll see you in a few minutes." I nodded, and he shut the door. I watched him walk back to the truck and get in, turn the lights on, and I pulled out into traffic, he following. Okay, Temperance, you know the way there, you can do this without crashing the car, and pay attention to traffic, and not fantasize for him for five whole minutes, and just... concentrate.


	4. Chapter 4

I berated every single car taking its damned time in front of me all the way over to the restaurant, and traffic was bad, her reservation was just at seven thirty, and I wanted to catch her before she went in, because I didn't want to do this in a whole restaurant full of people, but I managed to find a space just down the street, and oh, my God, she's still walking down the street, there's her car, get out, Seeley, run, go after her, knees don't fail me now.

There was her date, oh God, he actually didn't look like a total loser, waiting outside the restaurant, she's walking toward him, she's almost there, shit, he's holding his hand out, oh God, Bones, don't take it, no, don't lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek hello...

"Temperance!" Run faster, idiot, faster.

Her head whipped around, a look of alarm on her face as I finished running up to her, my chest heaving. She turned to her date, and dropped her hand, pulled away oh thank God she didn't kiss him, even if it's just his cheek, saying, "Carl, excuse me, that's my work partner, I'll be just a moment." I reached her then, and added my own interruption, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, really, but would you mind if I just spoke with Temperance for a moment? It's important."

She looked up at me, alarmed, and confused, oh God, confused, maybe Angela's right, and expectant, and I put my hand on her back, the usual jolt passing through me, and led her over about ten feet away, far enough that Carl wouldn't hear us.

"Booth, what is it? What's wrong?"

She looked up at me, and oh, God, the warmth of her body and her scent were driving me insane, oh God, I need to hold on to her arm, to, so my knees don't give out, oh Lord, I want her so much. "Temperance, I need to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me, okay?"

A look of confusion and oh, God, a flicker of pain? pain? flashed through her eyes before she answered me, in a whisper. "I'm listening." Oh, God, she does feel that way, and now she thinks I'm mad at her or something, oh lord, say something, you fool.

"I was wrong. I was wrong about the line. I've been a fool, I don't want the line, I never have." She looked shocked, stunned.

"What? But... you said... you don't..." She really had no clue, I'm an idiot, I can't believe I waited this long, tell her, again, make her believe you, you moron. I sighed.

"I know. I was wrong, okay? I... I'm an idiot. I... just... I didn't want to spoil our partnership, I didn't think you were interested, but... I can't stand it anymore, I had to tell you, and..." She still looked stunned.

"You do?" I nodded, my eyes darting momentarily toward her date, poor bastard, lord, this was awkward.

"Oh. Well... um... hold on a moment." Okay, she's got to talk to him. I let go, reluctantly.

She walked over to her date, he actually didn't look like a loser at all, and he was was standing there with a puzzled look on his face. She said something to him, and his face fell a little, but he nodded, and replied, then she laid her hand on his arm, squeezed it, smiled at him, and turned back to me, a look of amazement and hope? Yes! Hope! on her face. She walked back over to me and put her hand on my arm and looked up at me, a look of hope and disbelief in her eye. "Really?"

"Really." I nodded, and repeated myself. "Really." She just stared at me, lost for words, the look of disbelief fading. Wow. This was actually happening. "Look, Temperance, do you think we could... go somewhere and discuss this? I feel really bad about your date, over there, and all, but... maybe we could go someplace private?"

"Yes. My place or yours?" Yes, yesyesyesyesyes, please. Please, mine is closer, please, please, please, if I have to drive the extra ten minutes back to yours, my heart's going to explode from the waiting.

"Mine's closer." Oh, thank heaven. Thank you, God and Jesus and saints and angels, thankyouthankyouthankyou.

"Okay, I'll meet you there, I'm just parked down the block."

I nodded, then said, "I'm parked just a few cars behind you."

She let go of my arm, and turned to head back to the car, my hand on her back, oh God, please, soon, let there be more than just my hand on her back tonight, please, I don't think I can stand it any longer. I let go when she reached her car door, and opened it for her after she unlocked it with the remote, then offered her my hand as she went to get in. Oh, my God, please let there be more than my hand in hers, soon, please.

"I'll see you in a few minutes." She nodded, and shut the door. I walked back to my truck and got in, turned the lights on, and pulled out into traffic after she did. Okay, Seeley boy, it's your own damned house, you know the way there, you can do this without crashing the car, and pay attention to traffic, and not fantasize for her for five whole minutes, and just... concentrate.


	5. Chapter 5

We got out of our cars at the same time, walking toward one another and meeting halfway, neither of us able to wait a second longer, as our arms wrapped around each other and our lips met in a kiss that made our Christmas kiss seem like child's play. Our hands roamed over one another's bodies, finally free to fully explore, until we broke apart, breathless, then said nothing more as we both ran up the walk and opened the door, slamming it shut, locked behind us. We made our passion-filled way to the bedroom, stopping to kiss and embrace once again, and remove one anothers' clothes as we gazed and touched and kissed hungrily, all the way to the bed, each groaning and gasping at the other's touch, the feel of one another's skin and heat touching, sliding against one another with nothing, finally, between us.

Two bodies became one, calling one another's names as we broke the laws of physics, over and over again. Our mutual misunderstandings dissolved, and as we held one another, sated, satisfied, whole, each whispered, "I love you," and knew, finally, what the other was thinking.


End file.
